


Masked

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Closeted Character, Drinking, M/M, Masks, Muteness, Party, Rough Sex, Slash, Stranger Sex, Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:44:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celty and Shinra convince Shizuo to attend a mask themed party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masked

Masked balls are stupid. Shizuo doesn't care how pretty Venetian masks are. He can’t believe he’s let Celty and Shinra talk him into this.

But, it’s Celty’s first party. She’d fashioned a black mask out of her smoke to cover her head space entirely, complete with black feathers and sequins. If anyone asked, Shinra would tell them she had a sore throat. She’s so excited, Shizuo couldn’t say no to her if he tried.

At the very least, Shizuo had thought, he can have a fancy drink and check out guys without anyone knowing who he is.

“This is stupid,” he mutters to Shinra now, out of earshot of Celty. “Everyone knows who everyone is.” He nods at a masked, necking couple to prove his point. It’s not the first he’s seen.

Shinra follows his nod and chuckles. “I don’t think they do know each other, Shizuo. I think that’s the point.”

Shizuo stares with new found interest. _Oh._ He suddenly feels very slow.

“You can do whatever you want,” Shinra advises as he drifts off after Celty. “So long as you don’t talk or let the mask slip.”

He checks out a lot of guys after that.

* * *

 He goes outside when he begins to feel his drink.

He’s thinking about calling it a night. Even with drink, even with anonymity, there’s no way he can approach a man. He just can't. He’d find Celty and Shinra and tell them he’d had enough.

He’s halfway through the door when he bumps masks with another man. He goes to apologise, stops himself just in time. The other man looks at him curiously, as if assessing who he might be. Then he puts his hand around Shizuo’s neck and kisses him.

 _Holy shit_ , Shizuo thinks against his mouth. _It’s that kind of party?_

But he’s drunk enough to let it happen, to let himself be pulled back against the wall, away from the door, while people laugh and pass around them. The other man tastes of punch or some kind of cocktail, peachy, and he feels good, firm, warm, under his clothes. They’re masks bump, and they have to angle their kiss to prolong it.

The other man takes him by the hand then and starts leading him away. Shizuo thinks they’re just heading for a quiet corner when he realises they’re at the foot of the stairs. The man hesitates to look at him, questioning, and Shizuo steps right up after him. He needs this.

Upstairs, even Shizuo can’t miss how some doors are invitingly open, while others are closed with certain…noises going on behind them. The other man pulls Shizuo along by the hand and trails his other one along the wall and doors, as if his mask impairs his vision, until they fall round an open door and lock it.

Shizuo is on him as soon as they do, pulling him on the bed and getting his hands under his clothes, undoing his shirt, biting because it’s easier to keep the mask in place than kissing. He lets a groan or two slip, but so does the other man, and it doesn’t seem to matter; they don’t know each other.

It's only when they’re damn near naked that the other’s groans send a jolt of recognition through Shizuo. Even the breathing sounds familiar. Shizuo stiffens. He rips the mask off the other man.

It is Izaya staring back at him, Izaya frozen and swollen lipped, Izaya flushed and dishevelled and half fucking naked in his lap.

Shizuo begins to shake.

“I-za-ya…”

Izaya’s eyes darken. He stiffens and punches Shizuo as hard as he can.

Shizuo falls off the bed to the floor, cracking his cheek on the dresser, and the whole thing rattles like it could fall on him. Izaya's on him again before he can recover, and Shizuo manages to grab on to his arms.

“We can’t fight here,” he growls. “We’ll wreck the damn place.”

Izaya’s fist loosens on Shizuo’s still open shirt.

“We wreck whole neighbourhoods and you’re worried about one little house?”

“I was having a good time,” he snarls, knocking Izaya’s hand off him as he speaks. His cheek is throbbing.

“I know you were,” Izaya chuckles, low voiced, and it occurs to Shizuo that anyone next door might hear them, that he better watch his own volume. He pushes Izaya off him.

“Come outside and fight.”

“You weren’t invited,” Izaya says, like he hasn’t spoken.

“I was Celty and Shinra’s plus one,” Shizuo hisses. “What’s your excuse? Who the hell would invite you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His eyes are dark again. “And I’m _still_ having a good time.”

He pushes Shizuo back, hard, and kisses him again. Shizuo can hardly bother to resist; he's still hard, and fuck, they're practically halfway there.

He lets Izaya drag him back to bed and get the rest of his clothes off, climb onto his lap,squashing the mask somewhere beneath them.

“Want me to put it back on?” Izaya asks, when they’re seconds, inches, from fucking, and Shizuo shakes his head.

“I’ll close my eyes.”

It is only when they’re close to the edge, Izaya hanging onto Shizuo and getting feathers in his face, that he rips Shizuo’s mask off as well.

Both masks are in an interesting state by the time they finish; crushed, missing bits, the bed littered with glitter and feathers.

“Well.”

Izaya picks up his mask after he’s dressed, attempts to tame his hair back into place.

“I’m glad you came along when you did. I was getting bored.”

Shizuo grunts. He picks up his own mask. Putting the suit back on had been bad enough; he is sticky with sweat and fluids.

“We should leave separately.”

“Obviously,” Izaya retorts.

He gets off the bed and walks out without looking back.

Shizuo’s left looking after him in a kind of trance. He looks down at the mess they’ve made, tries to straighten it back into some semblance of order.

He’ll see Izaya again. He always does.

* * *

 Izaya is grinning when he next sees Shizuo, though Shizuo’s knows he had been furious at first. Izaya has never hit him before, never done him any physical harm outside the knives, and Shizuo’s cheek had been bruised for a week,jaw pained when he moved it. His back is still burned raw from when they did it on the floor, his scalp aching from Izaya’s fists in his hair, shoulder clawed red. Damn flea.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya greets, and the taunt goes through him like it always does.

“Flea,” Shizuo growls. He’s really not in the mood for this. “Who the hell invited you to that thing, anyway? Don’t tell me Shinra did it behind my back?”

“Oh, no. It was my party.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “It was fun, I’ll have to do it again. Thanks for suggesting we don’t fight and wreck the place. It would have cost me thousands.” His eyes are gleaming, triumphant.

Shizuo crushes the match between his fingers, smoke forgotten.

“I-za-ya!”


End file.
